Knives
by FloridaGirl11
Summary: Clove. She's wicked with a knife, excels at trapping, and knows poisons like the back of her hand. And right now, she's going into a fight to the death with her boyfriend by her side. Cato/Clove. Companion to Arrows.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So, this is just sort of a preview. I may not work on this some more for a while, depending on feedback. I have another story going, and schoolwork, and yeah.**

**And this is a companion to my other story, Hunger Games: Glimmer POV, which I'm renaming Arrows.**

"You still going to volunteer, Cato?"

"Course I am!"

"Just making sure you didn't chicken out."

"Of course he didn't. Because Cato's not afraid of anything."

"That's my Cato," I say, leaning my head against his shoulder.

Grinning, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. I kiss him back, hard.

Ryk groans. "Oh, get a room,"

Cato pulls away, smirking. I laugh. "You're so jealous," I tease.

"Yeah, but it'll be me he's jealous of tomorrow night," Derric says, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"You touch her, you're dead," Cato growls. He's got that look on his face, the one that says _I can and I will kill you here and now._

"Relax, Cato, I'm not going to steal your girl, I'm just joking around," Derric says, trying to disguise his fear with a suave look.

Three years ago, you never would've thought Cato and I would be a couple.

I was a normal little thirteen year-old girl. Or at least everyone thought. No one knew that what I wanted more than anything was to win the Hunger Games. No one knew that I snuck back into the Center after training sessions were over, practicing knife throwing, learning about the different types of poisons, studying what each district did so I knew what to look for in each tribute. That was my little secret.

For a while.

_"What are you doing?" A voice breaks the silence and I whirl around, knife in hand. I'm expecting it to be a trainer, telling me the Center is closed, but instead I find a boy I've seen around before, Cato. He's the best fighter in his age group. He's beat all of the 15 year olds too, and most of the 16 year olds._

_"Training," I say. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Is he going to report me?_

_Cato raises an eyebrow. "The Center's closed,"_

_"So?" I ask._

_Cato smiles. "I like you. What's your name?"_

_"Clove Calloway."_

_"Well, what are you good with, Clove Calloway?"_

_"Knives," I say. 'I'm good with knives."_

_"Show me."_

_I turn and throw my knife. It hits the bullseye. I look back at Cato._

_"Try from back here." Cato motions to where he's standing, about 20 feet back._

_I grab another knife and jog over to him. Don't run with scissors, all the adults say. I wonder what they'd say right now, as I run with a knife._

_I aim and throw the knife at the bullseye. It lands right next to the other one._

_Still, Cato shows no reaction. He directs me to the very back of the gym._

_"Hit in-between them."_

_"What?" _

_"I want your knife to land right in the middle of the two you just threw."_

_"I've never thrown from this far."_

_"Then why don't you give it a try?" He looks at me._

_I stare at the target, aim, and throw. The knife lands right in-between the two I've previously thrown._

_Now Cato has a big grin on his face. He points at something on the ground ten feet in front of me. I look at it. It's the record line._

_"You threw that farther than anyone. You beat them by ten feet." Wow. I smile._

_"Are you any good with swords?" Cato looks at me questioningly. I shake my head._

_"Let me teach you." He gives me a sword, then picks one out for himself. "Let's fight."_

_"Yeah, because we're so evenly matched." There is no way I could ever beat him._

_"How are you going to learn if you don't practice?"_

_Hesitantly, I grip my sword. Cato's disarmed me in no time._

_"How do you hold the sword?" He asks. I show him._

_"See, that's the problem. You're holding it all wrong. Here:" He moves my hands into a different position._

_"This feels slightly awkward," I say, twisting the sword around._

_Cato thinks for a minute. "Are you a lefty?" _

_I nod. He grins. "Okay, that's it." He reaches around my shoulders and switches the positions of my hands. I turn my head and realize his face is just centimeters from mine. My face turns a little red. He smiles at me._

_We try again. I hold out a little longer, but this is Cato. His sword tip is at my neck in minutes._

_"That was good," he says encouragingly._

_"No it wasn't," I tell him._

_He laughs. "It was a lot better than last time, though." He checks his watch. "I've got to go. My mom's whole side of the family is coming over for dinner."_

_"What's it like?" I blurt out._

_He cocks his head. "What's what like?"_

_"Having a family," I say softly._

_"Perfect. The best thing in the world."_

After that, I began to pay more attention to Cato. And I realized he wasn't as nice to everyone else as he had been to me.

Anyone who insulted him ended up with potentially fatal injuries. A lot of people who hadn't insulted him ended up like that, too. Even people who had done the opposite of insult him were close to being goners. On Valentine's Day, I watched as a girl gave Cato a valentine, and he gave her a concussion.

No, Cato was not 'nice.'

And yet, he helped me. I got better with swords. He got better with knives. And we became closer. I hung out with him and his friends. And finally, I felt like there were people who genuinely cared about me.

I had wanted to go to the Games because I thought that if I won, people would like me, and if I died, no one would be hurt.

That wasn't the case anymore.

My father still yelled at me, still cursed my name. But he didn't as often, because he was hardly around me anymore. I practically lived at Cato's house. As far as my dad was concerned, I did.

His family loved me. "You're like the daughter I never had," his mother would say. Then Cato's little brother, Cletan, would mutter something about incest that I could never quite catch, but it always resulted in a low growl from Cato.

_"Did you have to beat him up?"_

_"Did you hear what he called you? Yes, I did!"_

_"No, you didn't! I know what he called me, and I don't care! I can fight my own battles, Cato! Why do feel the need to protect me 24-7? Because I can protect myself! I'm not a little girl!"_

_Cato glares at me. He slams me against the wall. My wrists are pinned above my head, and I can feel blood on the back of my leg._

_Cato's face is inches from mine, twisted into a hateful snarl. I brace myself for a punch._

_And that's when Cato kisses me. His body is pressed against mine, his grip almost cutting off the circulation in my wrists. His lips force mine apart and I can't even think because this is so incredibly amazing._

_I just want to freeze this moment, forever. All my problems, all my worry, they just vanish. All my thoughts slide away except for Cato._

_Cato pulls away. "That's why, babe." He releases me and out of the room. He's still angry; I can see it in his stride. But that's about the last thing on my mind right now._

_I sink to the ground, shaking. Cato and I; I'll admit it's maybe crossed my mind once or twice. But I never... he never..._

_Slowly, I stand up. I feel so vulnerable._

_I softly pad to Cato's bedroom. It's got two twin beds in it. The one on the far side by the window is "mine."_

_I'm glad he's not here. I'm not really ready to face him. Not yet._

_I curl up on "my" bed. I don't know at what point I fall asleep, I just know that I do, and that the next thing I know Cato is shaking me awake._

_I sit up groggily._

_"What, Cato?" I ask, all too aware of the moonlight streaming through the window and that we're sitting on a bed and the fact that Cato isn't wearing a shirt._

_That never bothered me before. I've slept here countless times, and I've never even thought about stuff like this._

_"I couldn't sleep. Listen, Clove, I'm really sorry about earlier, and if you want to forget about that, I totally understand, and-"_

_"I don't," I whisper._

_Cato stops. "What?" He's kind of cute like this. Usually he's overconfident and completely sure of himself._

_"I don't," I say quickly, before I lose my nerve. "I don't want to forget about that."_

_"Really?"_

_"Really."_

_Cato smiles gently, which is somewhat out of character. 'Cato' and 'gently' don't belong in the same sentence. He squeezes my hand and I wince. He notices._

_"That really hurt, didn't it? When I..."_

_"Not at all," I say, trying to sound convincing._

_Cato smirks. "Liar."_

_I roll my eyes. He just grins._

_And that's the beginning of the best two years of my life._

"Clove?" Cato's voice snaps me back to reality.

"What?"

"You fell asleep."

"I meant to do that."

Derric laughs. "Did you mean to do that on Cato's lap?"

Alex, Derric, Ryk, and Cato laugh loudly. Too loudly. I groan inwardly. They're drunk.

"I'm leaving," I say, standing up.

"I'll go with you," Cato says, quickly following me. I sigh. I don't want him to come with me, but there's no point in arguing with Cato, especially when he's drunk.

"Bye, idiots," I say to everyone else.

"Have fun, you two," Derric says, laughing obnoxiously. Alex laughs too, and then pukes all over the spot where I was just sitting. I roll my eyes and Cato and I leave.

"You going home or staying at my house?"

"Your house. If this is my last night here, I want to spend it with people who care about me."

"It's not your last night, Clove."

"You don't know that."

We continue walking in silence. When we arrive, I pull on my pajamas and curl up in my bed. I'm almost asleep when Cato sits down next to me.

"Clove," he says uncomfortably, "if I don't come back-"

"Don't talk like that," I interrupt, sitting up.

"But if I don't-" he starts to say, but I cut him off with a kiss.

Cato kisses me back with a passion he's never had before. His hands slide up my shirt and I shudder. He tastes like alcohol, but at this point, I don't really care.

One of his hands moves down my thigh and hitches it up on his hip. I just kiss him harder.

As we fall backwards onto the bed, I realize where this is going. I gently push Cato back.

"No, Cato. Not now. You're going to the Games. I can't do this and then end up losing you."

"You aren't going to lose me."

"You were trying to talk to me about what would happen if you died just a few minutes ago."

Cato touches my cheek. "I'll win, Clove. I promise."

"You can't promise that, babe. It's not like you can see the future."

"Well, yeah. But," Cato pulls off his shirt, "I can guarantee all the other tributes will be no match for my abs." He raises his eyebrows in a way that's supposed to be provocative but is instead so pathetic that I burst into laughter, totally ruining the serious mood.

He tries to glare at me but he's laughing, too.

I kiss him on the cheek, then curl up on the bed. Cato lays down next to me, and, with his arm resting on my waist, I fall asleep.

When I wake up, it's raining. Cato's still asleep, and I gently shake him awake.

"What?" he mutters. "Go away. My head hurts like crap." He pulls the pillow over his head.

"It's called a hangover," I say, rolling my eyes. I go downstairs and find Cato's mother, Mrs. Lawrence, making pancakes.

"Good morning, dear. Could you pass me the spatula?"

I nod mutely and hand it to her. Then I sit down and wait.

"Clove, is... is Cato still going to volunteer?" Mrs. Lawrence asks hesitantly.

I smile a little. "Of course he is. He's Cato."

She sighs. "I'm just so worried about him," she says, her brow wrinkling in concern.

I hug her. "I am too."

After breakfast, I have to go to my house to grab my dress. As usual, my dad has a hangover. Yipee. Was anyone in my life sober last night? Probably not.

I open my closet door and smile as I see it. It's a deep purple color, made out of a light, summery material. I put it on and dig around for my shoes. After sliding them on my feet, I look outside. Luckily, the rain has stopped.

It's close to Reaping time, so I decide to just go straight to the square.

I'm kind of early; only a few people have arrived. Cato is one of them. When he sees me, he grins. He jogs up to me.

"Hey, Clove. Long time, no see."

I smile and I'm about to respond when he kisses me.

It's a sweet, gentle kiss, which is a bit of a surprise, because Cato isn't sweet nor gentle, but it's alright with me.

Some cheeky kid yells at us to go get a room. Cato pulls away and yells for the kid to go f*ck himself.

I roll my eyes. "Bye, Cato."

"See you soon."

I go to the section for sixteen year-old girls. It's not crowded yet, but I know from experience it'll be packed within a few minutes.

When the clock strikes, the mayor reads us a long, boring speech on the history of Panem. Afterwards, our district escort, Elpheba Cupcake, trots up to the podium in her pointy heels. Her hair is blue, and she's wearing this weird outfit that I don't even want to describe. If the Games don't kill Cato, I think Elpheba's looks will.

"Well, let's not keep waiting! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I swear she sounds like she's high. She reaches into the boys' bowl and pulls out a name. She starts to read it aloud, but Cato cuts her off.

"I volunteer!" he yells as he runs up to the stage.

"Well, look at our brave young man here! What's your name?"

"Cato Lawrence."

"What a great name!"

A few girls near me snicker.

"Now, time for the female tribute!" Elpheba says cheerfully. She reaches in the bowl and digs around. Finally she comes up with a white slip of paper. In a clear voice, she reads it aloud.

"Clove Calloway."

**O.O That was six pages! Longest chappie I've ever written. Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! I've decided to continue this… how could I not after all you guys' awesome comments? **

**I kind of came up with a cast for the whole story in my head;**

**Clove – Naomi Scott (I couldn't go with Isabelle Fuhrman, even though I wanted to… she's 13. And I originally was thinking of Shay Mitchell, but she's too old… she's 24. That's where I got the whole purple dress thing from… look up Shay Mitchell Pretty Little Liars on google, you'll probably see the dress I was thinking of)**

**Cato – Alexander Ludwig (How could I NOT do him? Did you guys see him in the movie trailer?)**

**Alex – Lucas Till (He could've been Peeta! But instead we got Josh Hutcherson. Blegh. Hutcherson just irks me)**

**Derric – Alex Pettyfer (see above)**

**Ryk – Avan Jogia (He would've been a great Gale…)**

**Angel – Aly Michalka (She and her sis wrote this song called Potential Break Up Song, and it's good XD)**

**Sorry for the long author's note… :/**

My heart skips a beat. No. No no no. I'm not going to the Games. This isn't possible. This is not possible. My name was in there just five times. Five times!

I slowly walk up to the stage. Someone will volunteer, I tell myself. They will.

No one does, though. As I stare over the crowd, I see pitying faces. But no one willing to volunteer. No one willing to give their life for me.

"Well, here are our two tributes! Cato Lawrence and Clove Calloway!" Elpheba's cheerful declaration sounds like a death sentence.

All this time, nothing has been registering in Cato's mind. He's had this shocked look on his face, like someone punched him in the gut. I guess Elpheba's words snapped him back to reality, because his face twists into a hateful snarl.

His angry eyes turn towards Elpheba. His muscles tense up.

She's a goner.

The peacekeepers nearby notice. One of them steps forward, but Cato knocks him out with one punch. The other three soon follow. Cato lunges at Elpheba, tackling her to the ground.

"She is not going to the Games with me!" He yells at her. "She isn't!" He punches her and she bursts into tears.

"Cato!" I shout. "Stop it!" I try to run to help Elpheba, but two peacekeepers hold me back. Three more rush to Cato. They aim their guns at him.

"What?" he asks. "You can't hurt me. I'm a tribute. That's illegal, right?" He smirks.

I'm wondering how this is going to end when one of the peacekeepers puts two and two together. He turns the gun on me.

Cato pales. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Finally, he raises his hands in the air and slowly stands up. "Don't hurt her," he growls. But he doesn't fight back.

The peacekeepers escort us to the justice building. We're thrown into separate rooms for our visiting hours.

My first visitor is Derric. He's at a loss for words, I can tell. So he just sits there, and I sit next to him, and we're silent until the peacekeepers come and tell us he has to leave. He squeezes my hand, and that squeeze says everything; I'm sorry, I'll miss you, I love you, goodbye.

Next comes Alex. Clumsy, always at the butt of the joke, stupid Alex. He's crying.

He starts talking really fast. "Clove, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I mean, you two, you're never going to be together, and now you're gonna go to the Games, and..." Just the opposite of Derric, Alex needs to talk. So I let him talk, and when his time is up I say goodbye, and he says he'll miss me, and then he's gone.

My next visitor is a surprise. Angel Soren.

Angel isn't exactly the type of girl I'd be friends with. She's super nice, always talking and laughing with her millions of friends, never speaking a mean word. She's the mayor's daughter, and always wears the latest styles from District 1. She has the typical District 2 look: Blonde hair, metallic green eyes, fair skin. She's one of those girls who you want to hate, but she's so darn nice that you just can't.

"Hi, Clove. Listen, I know we've never really been friends or anything, but, well, I just wanted to wish you good luck. And I'm really sorry that you got reaped."

I give a weak smile. "Thanks, Angel."

She gives a little smile back.

"I hope you win, Clove. And just... remember the enemy, alright?"

"Wait, what?" But she's already left.

My next visitor is even more of a surprise. It's my dad.

He has a troubled expression on his face. He paces the length of the room.

"Um, Dilanison, were you going to say something?" I ask.

He sighs. "Please... can you call me Dad?"

"Uh, alright, Dad."

He gives a tiny grin, and then his grin fades.

"Clove, when your mother died... well, I was broken. I didn't know what to do. And you... you looked just like her. You have her eyes." He takes a shaky breath. "You were like a walking, living memory. A reminder, that she was gone forever."

"I guess that's why I yelled at you so much. You looked so much like her that sometimes I forgot you weren't her. And I didn't want..."

"I think what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. I don't know if you can apologize for something so big, but..." He wraps his arms around me.

"I can't believe it took you going to the Games to realize this. I love you Clove. And, if you do come home, I'd like a second chance."

"I'll think about it," I say softly.

"Thank you," he replies, and then he's gone.

Cato's parents and his little brother come next. They hug me and kiss me and tell me they love me, like normal family would. A normal family.

When their time is up, that's when Ryk comes in.

Without hesitation, I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He's always been the rational one, and the one I'm closest to, besides Cato.

I let myself cry into his shoulder, tears I've been holding in for a while. He's the only person I can cry in front of without getting a bunch of crap. Because he understands.

When my tears are gone, I just rest there, with my head on his shoulder.

All of a sudden, he shoves me away. I stumble backwards.

"Don't do this to me, Clove," he says, with a strange look on his face.

"Do what?"

"Do you know how hard it is, watching you and Cato, day after day? It's like a punch in the stomach!" He's yelling now. "Do you get that?"

"What?" I ask. Ryk is never like this.

"Dammit Clove, I love you, alright?" He yells, stopping to look at me.

I open my mouth and close it again.

Ryk grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. "Win, Clove. Promise me you'll win."

The tears are starting to come back. "I-I can't promise that."

Ryk runs a hand through his hair and turns like he's going to leave. Then he stops and looks back at me.

In a swift movement, he grabs my face and kisses me, so hard and fast and full of emotion, it's dizzying.

"Win, Clove," he says, then walks through the door.

I take a shaky breath. Ryk loves me. And not the way I love Derric and Alex and him, as friends. He loves me the way I love Cato. And the worst of it is, I can see us together. I can see my entire life changing, Cato's blue eyes replaced by Ryk's brown ones, his violent nature replacing Ryk's gentle one. I can see it that easily, and it scares me. The thought that I could give up Cato, who would take a bullet for me, for Ryk.

The peacekeepers come in to escort me to the train.

Cato walks out next to me. His fingers brush mine, and that's all we have time for, because then we're on at the station and hundreds of reporters are bombarding us with questions and shoving their microphones in our faces. Cato glares at everyone, and I give my trademark smirk.

We board the train, and almost the second we step on it lurches forward. We're greeted by our mentors, Enobaria and Lukas. Enobaria won the Games by ripping tributes' throats out as they slept. Lukas simply outsmarted all his competitors.

"Cato... you're a good candidate. I've been watching you. Your skills with a sword are impressive." Enobaria grins at him, which is incredible nightmare fuel, even more so than Cato's cheesy pickup lines. And that's saying a lot.

See, after her games, Enobaria had her teeth filed to razor sharp points, in memory of her favorite way to kill. It's a shark's smile on a woman's face.

Lukas says nothing, just studies the two of us.

Cato, meanwhile, is beaming with pride. Enobaria's a legend. And she's impressed with him.

"You're in love," Lukas suddenly speaks up. The way he talks is a little strange. It's more intense than the way most people do.

Enobaria raises an eyebrow at me. I stare at the ground, not sure how to respond.

"This definitely throws a wrench in things," Lukas says in the same tone, which I decide is somewhat intriguing.

He continues. "And you probably both would die for each other. Am I right?"

Cato's narrowed eyes meet Lukas's. He just nods.

"We should portray them as lovers. Then we'll have those Capitol airheads jumping all over themselves to support the angsty star-crossed couple from District 2." Enobaria suggests.

Lukas shakes his head. "No, we shouldn't do that. Then the other tributes will have leverage over you two. You need to wait till the arena, and then be all over each other when your competitors aren't around. That'll increase the chances of one of you will come out alive."

"I already know who's coming out alive, and it's Clove." Cato says it like its a fact of life; the sky is blue, the grass is green, Angel is popular, Alex is an idiot, and Clove is going to win the Games.

"You don't know that."

"I do know that!" Cato says through gritted teeth.

"You can't be sure."

"She's going to win!" Cato lunges at Lukas.

In seconds, Lukas has Cato pinned on the ground, his boot resting on his neck.

"Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I can't fight." Lukas stares down at Cato with an amused look. Cato glares up at him.

Lukas slowly removes his foot. Cato stands up, face red, but doesn't fight back.

Lukas turns and leaves the train car. Enobaria shakes her head. "Follow me. I'll show you to your rooms."

She shows us Cato's room, and I flop down on the bed.

"Do you want to see your real room?" Enobaria asks me.

"No, I'm never going to go in there, probably."

Enobaria rubs her temples. "Okay, just lock the door, be quiet, and don't get any STD's."

I crack up right away, but it takes Cato a few seconds. Then he grins.

But he quickly becomes serious again. "Clove, you're getting out of there. I swear."

"Cato-"

"I swear, Clove." His eyes have a scary, intense look in them.

I sigh. There's no point in arguing with Cato.

I lay down on the bed. I can't stand thinking about this anymore, about how I can't live if I want Cato to, how Ryk is in love with me, how I'm going to have to kill myself if it comes down to Cato and I. It's all just too much. I need to sleep. When you're sleeping, you can't think about how incredibly messed up your life is.

It seems like mere seconds after I close my eyes that Cato is shaking me awake.

"The Reapings are on. We need to see our competition." He says.

"What were you doing while I was asleep?" I ask.

"Well, Lukas showed me this awesome thing called... drum roll please."

"No."

"Fine. Video Games."

"What?"

"It's like, you're a person on TV, and you control what you do by moving your arms and legs. And you're a tribute in the Games, and you have to outlast everybody. It's so cool!" He sounds like a five year old who just got a puppy.

"I'll take your word for it," I say, standing up. I smooth out my dress, and Cato leads me to the TV area. Lukas and Enobaria are already there.

First up is District One. These tributes will be our allies in the arena. The tributes from One, Two, and Four always team up.

District One always does their Reapings a little differently than everyone else. They ask for volunteers after both tributes have been Reaped. It's not something most people would notice, but I'm not most people. In One, they ask for volunteers after both tributes' names are drawn.

I wish they did it that way in Two. Then maybe Cato wouldn't have volunteered.

A teary-eyed girl is Reaped. So is a dark-haired boy with gorgeous eyes. Her name is Emerald. His name is Marvel. Who in their right mind names their kid Emerald? Or Marvel, for that matter?

A beautiful blonde girl with striking green eyes (What is with District One and pretty eyes?) volunteers for Emerald. No one volunteers for Marvel, and from the looks he's gibing the crowd, they'd be dead if they did.

Next is Two. Us. I see Cato proudly volunteer, I see my name called, and I see myself walk up to the stage. And then we're on to District Three, and I realize that the Capitol must have cut out the footage of Cato's attack. They don't want anyone to see how easily their peacekeepers can be overcome. They don't want the audience to know that five of their soldiers can be taken down by a seventeen year-old boy.

In Three, a tiny, nerdy-looking boy named Buzz is Reaped along side an older girl named Trixie.

Then comes Four. A small, lithe girl, Nikki, volunteers. So does a cute older guy named Jonathon.

Glimmer. Marvel. Cato. Me. Nikki. Jonathon. Not a bad group. Glimmer's beauty will get us sponsors, as will Marvel, Jonathon, and Cato's muscle. Nikki... well, she volunteered. She's probably got something up her sleeve. But me, I don't know. What do I bring to the table? I'm not incredibly beautiful, or muscular, or, well, anything.

"Glimmer... she and Marvel don't like each other. At all." Lucas is saying.

I blink. "You know this how?"

"You can see it. In her eyes. And in his."

"Are you mental?" Cato asks.

"Yes, he is. But not with this," Enobaria cuts in.

"Oh, good. The man who our lives depend on is only partially mental. That's comforting."

"It better be, Clove. Now, back to the Reapings."

We've missed almost all of the other Districts, but we manage to catch the end of Eleven, where a muscular boy twice Cato's size is Reaped. As the escort introduces both of the tributes, I see that the girl is just the opposite; thin and small.

Rounding everything off is District Twelve. A tiny blonde girl is Reaped, but is quickly replaced by an older girl with ashy eyes and olive skin. I can't help but be surprised; in all my life, no one from Twelve has volunteered. The volunteer's name is Katniss.

The boy tribute is a blonde kid who looks to be around sixteen, maybe seventeen.

"He is very, very in love with her. She doesn't know it though."

I turn my head. "How? How do you do that?"

Lucas shrugs.

I sigh. I stand up, ready to go back to my room or something, when the windows suddenly go dark.

We must be going through one of the tunnels. See, the Capitol is built in the mountains, in a region that used to be called the Rockies. The only way in is through a series of tunnels.

I grab Cato's hand and yank him over to a window seat. We've just sat down when the darkness is replaced by incredibly bright sunlight.

"Holy shit," Cato mutters.

"-take mushrooms," I finish, kicking him.

"Ow!"

"That's what you get."

"You're in heels! That seriously hurts!"

"I'm preparing you for the Games."

He opens his mouth to reply, but I silence him by pressing a finger against his lips.

The Capitol really is holy-shiitake-mushroom worthy. Neon pink buildings, lime green streets, and lemon yellow automobiles pressed up against a clear blue sky: It's breathtaking.

Passerby look up and visibly brighten when they see us. They smile and blow kisses, smiling as we catch them. A little girl with bright pink hair waves at me, and starts jumping up and down when I wave back.

For a few moments, I forget that we're about to be slaughtered. I'm actually happy. Cato's arm is around my waist, and it's totally making these peoples' day that we even bother to look at them.

But then we pull into the building where the tributes stay, and I remember why I'm really here. Not to snuggle with my boyfriend, not to wave at adoring Capitol people, not to pretend I'm a celebrity. I'm here to be prepared for slaughter. I'm here to fight so Cato can live. I'm here to die.

**Seven pages! But that's just cos of my HUGE A/N. Review please!**

**Also, I got like 10000000 (this is an exaggeration) subscriptions/favorites/whatever, but only 5 reviews So, um, it would be nice to have reviews, I kind of like those… erm, yeah.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hullo. Sorry I didn't update sooner... I had a terrible case of writer's block. That's why some parts of this chapter might seem awkward. Enjoy!**

"You look perfect!"

"Starflower is going to LOVE you!"

"You'll be the star of the parade!"

My prep team circles around me, babbling and complimenting me. They're a strange bunch. Saggitarius is somewhat normal looking, if you ignore the fact that her irises are black and her pupils are shaped like stars and the color of gold. Capricorn is just the opposite; she's as far from normal as you can get. Her skin is pink, her hair is green, and her eyes are black. She looks like a watermelon. Finally, there's Mark, who has spikey blue hair and wears sparkly gold lipstick.

They've just finished preparing me for the parade. All my body hair's been waxed off, which is extremely painful. My hair has been scrubbed and shampood, now hanging down my shoulders in a glossy curtain. My fingernails are smooth, perfect ovals.

I feel like an animal, ready for slaughter.

Starflower, my stylist, apparently has no interest in seeing me until I'm presentable. So I don't know anything about her, or if she's even a woman. I mean, I'd assume she is, but you never know. Especially with these Capitol people.

My prep team leaves, and I stand alone in the room. I feel so vulnerable, in this thin robe and my stinging skin. I feel small, unimportant, something I haven't felt in a long time.

My mind drift to Cato. I doubt he's enjoying this process. He's probably putting up quite a fight. The thought makes me smile.

"Hello."

I look up and see a pretty young woman shutting the door. My stylist, Starflower.

She's not what I expected. She looks twenty-five at the oldest. Her hair is pulled into an elaborate bun, and she's wearing a simple black dress. The only thing unnatural about her is her eyes, which are too bright a blue to be normal.

"I'm Starflower, your stylist. I was wondering, have you decided your approach yet?"

Each tribute choises an approach. It can be funny, witty, vicious, sexy, etc.

"Cruel," I tell her.

She nods. "Okay. I thought it was something like that. Just checking."

She motions to a door at the other side of the room. "Come on."

I follow her into a room with a huge window overlooking the Capitol skyline. It contains two couches and a coffee table. Starflower settles on one, and I sit opposite her.

She presses a button on the side of the table. It splits apart and a steaming hot table rises up. I nibble on a roll.

"So what are our costumes going to look like?" I ask between bites.

"What does your district do?"

"We sup - mine graphite." We also supply peacekeepers, but no one is supposed to know that.

"And who mines graphite?"

"Uhh, miners?"

"And what do the miners look like after they come from the mines?"

I'm completely guessing on this. Mining does take place in our District, but not a lot. There's one mine near our village, just a klick down the mountain, but that's really the only one I've seen. Unlike the other villages, we don't even have to travel somewhere for the Reaping, which always takes place in our village, which holds the justice building.

"Exactly."

I glare at her. "I am not dirty."

Starflower gives a light smile. "Not like that. We were thinking more along the lines of, well, you'll see."

A few hours later, I'm staring at myself in a mirror, gaping.

My hair is strategically styled to look messy and windswept (oh, the irony). My eyes are highlighted with dark mascara and smokey eyeshadow. My face is smudged. My nails are decorated cracked black nailpolish. My dress is short, tight on the top and sort of poofing out at the bottom. It's tattered and torn. I'm wearing ripped fishnet tights, which are itchy, and heeled boots, which are hard to walk in.

But those are just minor flaws, because my outfit is stunning. I am stunning. I can't even recognize myself.

Starflower takes me to the area where they keep the chariots. About half the tributes are there. Cato's one of them.

My heart skips a beat when I see him. He's leaning against the Distirct 2 chariot, glaring at all the other tributes. He isn't wearing a shirt, which I'm kind of used to, but his chest is oiled and his skin seems to be a shade darker. His pants are black and torn, like my dress, and underneath them are solid black boots.

He looks amazing.

He doesn't see me right away. I'm only a few feet from him when he finally notices me. His jaw drops a little. "Holy shit."

I'd kick him, but I'm afraid I'd fall over. Stupid boots.

He grabs my hand and pulls me behind the chariot. Before I know it, he's got me pressed up against it, and his lips are on mine.

My hands rest on his stomach, and I gently trace his muscles with my fingers. His tongue pushes its way into my mouth.

A voice comes on the loudspeaker, saying that the parade will begin in five minutes. I gently push Cato away. He smiles at me. "You are so, so beautiful," he murmers.

He stretches, then climbs into the chariot. He holds out his hand. Laughing, I grab it. His strong grip pulls me up.

Within a few minutes, the District 1 chariot lurches to a start. The second it's out the door, the crowd lets out a loud roar. Everyone always loves District 1. This year, they're dressed in white and gold and spray-painted a sparkly silver color. They look like angels. Ironic, because we look like we're from Hell itself.

Our chariot, which is a deep midnight black, creaks to a start. The crowd cheers as Cato and I appear, and I hear more than a few whistles as well.

"You're smokin', babe," Cato murmers.

"Shut up."

"It's true. You're going to get us more sponsers than Glimmer."

"Just... be quiet for now."

We wave and smile, and a few girls faint when Cato winks at them.

Oh my god, this is crazy.

All of a sudden the crowd lets out a collective gasp, before bursting into spontaneous applause.

What happened? The back of the chariot blocks our view of anything behind us.

Cato clenches my arm. "Dammit, Twelve," he mutters.

"What?"

Cato nods at one of the screens on the side of a building. I look up and almost fall over. It's those Twelve kids, and they're on fire. Literally. Their capes and crowns look like they have actually been set aflame.

No one is paying attention to us, not anymore. All eyes are on the flaming children of District 12, on the blonde boy with his good-guy looks and the dark haired girl with her captivating gray eyes.

Cato's pretty much cutting off the circulation in my arm. I grit my teeth. "Cato."

He glances over at me. "Oh. Sorry." He releases me

Did he seriously not even realize that he was holding my arm? I knew Cato was strong, but this seems almost... wow.

After a miserable ten minutes of being almost completely ignored, the parade is over.

Starflower and Leonardo, Cato's stylist, greet us with slightly dejected looks. I can see them trying to look upbeat for us, but it's obvious they're disappointed.

"You looked great," Starflower says.

And we did; it's true. But D Twelve looked better.

In a way, I'm glad that Starflower didn't lie to boost our confidence, didn't pretend we were the showstoppers or the unforgettable ones. That would've only made it worse.

I give her a small smile, and then Cato and I head up to the dining room.

Waiting for us are Enobaria, Lukas, and a scared-looking Elpheba. I had been wondering if we'd see her again.

Cato grins at her. She gulps.

Almost the second we sit down, servants dressed in white bring us plates and plates of steaming hot food. One with beautiful golden hair serves me a plate of something green and goupy. I ask her what it is, but she just stares at me.

"Oh, you don't talk to them," Elpheba says, like it's completely obvious.

Cato glares at her.

"Um, I mean most people don't, but you can if you want to, and it's not like you would know that, so it's fine..." Elpheba trembles a little.

Cato smirks.

"Why don't people usually talk to them?" I cut in, before Cato can start something.

"Well, their tongues were cut out."

I choke on an overly-buttered roll. "What? That's awful!" I look over at the golden-haired girl. "I'm so sorry! Who did that to you? How do you sing or say hi to your friends or tell your boyfriend you love him?"

Elpheba's mouth drops open, like she can't believe that I have the audacity to ask such a thing. Enobaria gives me a warning look. Why is everyone so freaked?

Finally, Lukas speaks up. "Avoxes are traitors to the Capitol. This is their punishment."

I stare at the blonde girl. I open my mouth and then close it. As the girl, who I'm going to call Goldy, turns to leave, I reach out and let my hand brush her's. It's a small gesture, but I hope she realizes that it means I sympathy her. That I don't think she deserves this. That no one does.

When dinner's finally over, I'm glad. After the Goldy incident, everyone kind of ate in a long awkward silence.

I'm ready to head to my room, but Lukas tells us we should watch the reruns of the parade. I don't want to witness our defeat on screen, but I grudgingly agree.

Cato sits down on a couch in front of the TV, and, in a moment of confidence, I sit on his lap.

I feel him tense up at first, then slowly relax, shifting his weight slightly, wrapping his arms around my waist.

It's kind of nice to have him hold me like this. And, I'll admit, it's also kind of nice he isn't wearing a shirt.

On the television, a woman with cat whiskers is about to go through all of our costumes and analyze them. She acts like this is the most exciting thing she's ever done. It's funny.

First is the boy from One, Marvel. She gives him a 7.5, saying that while his costume was interesting, nothing really jumped out at her.

She gives the Glimmer a 9.0, saying her costume was "dazzling."

Next is Cato. She says his costume was "sexy" and that his stylist did a phenomenal job. 10. Of course. What a cougar.

Next is me. I get a 9.5. Apparently, Cat Whiskers has always had a thing against fishnets.

She goes through the other tributes, giving a wide variety of scores. And then she gets to Twelve.

"There aren't words to describe how incredibly amazing-"

Cato chucks the remote at the TV. The screen splinters.

Lukas looks ready to kill him, but Enobaria's hand on his arm calms him down. A thought crosses my mind, but I quickly push it away. It's probably just my overactive imagination.

"I'm going to bed early," I say, standing up and walking to my room.

A few minutes later, I'm standing in the shower, staring at an enormous panel of buttons. How do I turn this thing on?

I decide to guess, and start pressing random buttons.

Warm, melon-scented water drizzles from above my head. Taking a shower, which I've never done before, is kind of cool. And when I get out, I don't even have to dry my hair. All I do is touch a panel on the wall and my hair dries instantly, leaving it hanging in a silky sheen around my shoulders.

I wrap myself in a towel and open the door to my room to find Cato sitting on my bed. He's wearing nothing but his boxers, and is staring at his feet with a dejected look. He raises his head. "Oh. Hi, Clove."

I cautiously walk over and sit down next to him. "Everything alright?" I ask.

Cato stands up suddenly. "We're going to the Games! I'm going to flippin' die! And you'll probably going to have to watch it! Yes, everything's great, Clove!" He punches the wall in frustration. Plaster crumbles and falls to the floor. Drops of blood splatter the floor. He doesn't even seem to notice.

Cato turns back to me, tears in his eyes.

Something's wrong with Cato. Yes, he's been violent before, but that's not what I'm worried about. No matter how violent Cato is, he always has been in control.

It doesn't seem like he is anymore. His mood swings are worse than those of a pregnant woman. And he doesn't know his own strength now.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice rough. "I - I should go." He leaves the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

What the heck just happened?

I walk over to the closet and program it for a silky nightgown. You can do that here. It's pretty epic.

I unwrap the towel and slide the silky garment over my head.

I climb into bed and close my eyes, trying to fall asleep.

All the time, wishing Cato was here.

The real Cato.

The sane one.

**Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! This chapter's kind of short, but I haven't updated in forever, so I wanted to post it. Hope you'll forgive me for the slow updates, but I'm trying to write really long chapters.**

**Enjoy!**

I roll out of bed and pull myself to the closet. The sun hasn't even risen, and normally I'd go back to sleep, but my entire night has been filled with grotesquely vivid dreams, and I've got no interest in experiencing them again.

I flip through a list of "recommended" outfits. They're all utterly ridiculous.

Then I come across something else.

"Outfits you've worn recently." It has the nightgown I wore last night, but it's got others, too. From around a year ago.

These must've been the outfits last year's D2 girl tribute wore.

Her name was Ali Bryke. She was sixteen, my age. She had a little sister, Jes, I think.

I flip through Ali's selections, feeling like I'm robbing a dead girl's house.

That's when I get an idea.

Ali looked a lot like me. Black hair, tan skin. Different eyes, but still.

I choose one of the outfits: skinny jeans, tank top, mini jacket, necklace, flats. I part my hair on the side, like Ali did. Using a combination of eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow, I manage to make my eyes seem larger.

I stare in the mirror. Not perfect, no. But close enough.

I'm going to make the Capitol pay.

When I go down to breakfast, everyone's already there. I guess I took more time than I thought.

Elpheba screams. Her face turns pale. She looks like she's seen a ghost.

Enobaria freezes at the sight of me. Starflower drops her fork. Dragon, Cato's stylist, sort of just stares at me.

The most interesting reaction comes from Lukas, though. It seems that he realizes right away what I did, and now he's looking at me with something that can only be described as approval.

"What?" I ask, pretending I don't know.

"You're hot," Cato says. I scowl at him. He just laughs, and goes back to eating.

"You... you just look a lot like... like someone I used to know." Elpheba's quivering. "She's... she's not with us anymore."

The thing about Ali was she wasn't one of those easily forgotten tributes. She was incredibly charismatic, and had the most beautiful laugh. Her best friend was Angel. She and Sparkle, who ended up being victor, were the last two left.

Sparkle slashed her neck with a knife. Relished every drop of blood. Screamed in victory when the cannon fired.

It seemed like almost the entire District was at her funeral. It was a sad day, for everyone.

That's why Atala, the head trainer, stifles a gasp when her eyes land on me. Why about half the tributes sort of stare at me with shocked looks when their eyes flick to my face.

Cato and I split once Atala releases us. We cover more territory this way.

I throw knives for a while, but when I end up beating the trainer and making him annoyed as heck, I decide it's time to move on.

Poisons. That's what I go to next. I completely rock those, too. The trainer tries to tell me Hemalia berries are edible, and the thing is, they aren't. They leave you puking and hallucinating for days. So I ostentatiously tell him he's wrong, and leave him standing there with sort of a WTF face.

Next, trapping. Another one of my specialties. I hang out there for a while. Our strategy is supposed to be to intimidate the other tributes, and I guess trapping isn't very intimidating, but that's all right for now.

The rest of the day is pretty uneventful, as with the day after that. We train, meet the other Careers, make out. The works.

On the third day is when we have our private training sessions. Basically, we show off in front of the gamemakers, and they grade us on our skills. One is irredeemably bad, and twelve is impossibly good.

"You see anyone we should ask to join the alliance?" Cato's asking.

I glance around. "Thresh, I think. Maybe Peeta."

"Who and who?"

"Eleven and Twelve."

"Not Twelve."

"What about Eleven?"

Cato sizes up Thresh. "Yeah. C'mon." He takes my hand and leads me over to the spear-throwing station, where Thresh is mercilessly stabbing and slicing at a bunch of dummies.

Cato drops my hand and crosses his arms, which makes him look more dangerous than he is. Not that it would really help against Eleven.

"Hey, Thresh," I say.

He doesn't even flinch, just continues his fake killing spree.

"Thresh," I say, louder.

He doesn't look back, but responds with a gruff "What?"

"Well, Cato and I've been watching you, and we think that you could be a valuable asset to the careers. You're strong, you're big, you're good-looking... you'll probably get a lot of sponsors, too."

"What are you getting at?" He's stopped with the stabbing, but still has his back to us.

"We'd like you to join the Careers," Cato breaks in.

Now he finally turns to us, his features showing pure disgust. "Never."

"What?"

"I'll never join you guys. And none of the other tributes will, either, not if they still have the tiniest bit of honor left." He's on a roll. "You train to kill people. You volunteer to come here simply as a sport. You disgust me."

Cato looks ready to strangle him.

"Whoa, wait, I didn't want to come here. I didn't volunteer. I'd rather be at home, hanging out with my friends," I say.

"Don't play dumb, girl. I saw you throwing the knives. You're just like all of them." He sends a spear straight into a dummy's heart, with such force it actually falls over.

Cato grabs my arm and yanks me away, towards the archery section, where Glimmer is busy hitting bull's-eyes, or something close to them.

"I'm going to kill you, Thresh," he yells over his shoulder.

"You do that."

I notice Katniss watching us. I glare at her, and she quickly looks away, continuing to talk to her little BFF, Peeta.

I remember the feel of Cato's fingers entwined in mine. That was just a few minutes ago. Did she see?

She couldn't have. Right? If she didn't, did someone else see? I look around the gymnasium, but no one seems to be paying attention.

But did she see? And if she did, did realization flicker in her smoky eyes, or did it pass right over her head?

The questions torment me for the rest of the morning, and before I know it, it's time for Cato's private session with the gamemakers. This is where he shows them everything he can do. They'll give him a score of one to twelve, with one being incredibly hopeless and twelve being unattainably good.

He's been gone for around ten minutes when a peacekeeper signals that it's my turn.

Taking a deep breath, I walk through the doors.

The gamemakers are all eating from a humongous feast set before them. The one in the center, Seneca Crane, I believe, speaks. "Show us what you can do."

So I throw knives, using every last one to slit throats, pierce targets, or cut apart faces. Then I turn to the gamemakers and bow my head.

"You are dismissed."

I turn and leave.

Cato's waiting for me. "I bet you and I both got a twelve," he says. "We'll get sponsors for sure. And then you'll get to go home."

"I'm not going home, Cato. You are."

"I swore I'd get you back to 2. Alive."

I sigh. I didn't want to bring this up.

I stop walking. "Cato, the night before the Games. You swore to me you'd be the one who wins this thing. Honor that."

"I didn't know you'd be going, too. Clove-"

"I don't want to go back if you're not going to be there. What's the point of saving my life if I'm going to waste it away on alcohol or morphling or sex?"

"Then we'll both win."

This catches me off guard. "What?"

"We'll both win the Games."

I let out a mixture of a laugh and a sob. "It doesn't work like that, Cato."

"I'll make it like that, then."

"Are you mad? You can't just _make_ both of us win."

"Maybe they'll see how in love we are, and let us both out!"

"Or maybe they'll just kill us both off from the start, because we're causing too much of a ruckus! You're delusional if you think that they're going to let us both live! This is the Capitol! The gamemakers are the most cruel-hearted, merciless beings in Panem! They don't care if we die, as long as they have money and power!"

At once, I realize I've gone too far. I don't doubt for one second that this entire building is under surveillance. And what I said is borderline treasonous. No, more than that. It is treasonous. I can only hope that there will be nothing of interest during these hours, no reason for anyone to want to view footage of us, because if there is, life's going to be heck for me in the arena. And that means it will be nearly impossible for me to stay alive. For me to keep Cato alive.

Cato opens his mouth to respond, and then all the thoughts that just flew through my head seem to fly through his.

"I think I deserve that title more than they do," Cato says. To anyone else, it would sound flirty, sexy. But I've known him for too long. I can feel the warning in his tone, see it in his eyes.

I smile at him. "That's for sure."

He leans down to kiss me, but I stop him. "Not here."

We walk to the elevators, and ride in silence to our floor. Cato's hand finds mine, and I'm grateful. I could use a little support.

I go to my room and lie on the bed, desperately praying that no one will ever hear the traitorous words I've spoken. But the thing is, in a way, I do want people to hear what I said. Because I believe, without a doubt, that the things I said were true.

Funny, I never questioned the Capitol like this before the Reaping. I had always thought the Capitol was good, it was right, it was merciful. I believed every word of the 24/7 propaganda films on the television.

I was so naive. So ignorant.

What had I been thinking, when I wanted to go to the Games? I don't regret training, for it gives me an edge. But the fact that I ever wanted to go is appalling. How could I ever want that? How could Cato? How could Glimmer and Marvel and Nikki and Jonathon? How could anyone?

"Time for dinner, babe."

I find Cato standing in the doorway. Impulsively, I wrap my arms around his neck. "I love you," I whisper against his shoulder.

He hesitates a second. "I love you, too." He awkwardly pats me on the back.

We are not this type of couple. We never have been, and I doubt we ever will be. We don't go on walks and hold hands, give each other sweet, gentle kisses in gardens. We don't dance to classical music under the moonlight, swaying slowly and whispering innocent, tender things in each others' ears.

And yet, it's nice, in a way. My head just resting against Ryk's shoulder. Ryk's always so sensible and smart. I'm glad he's here-

I shove away from him. This is Cato. Not Ryk, Cato. This is Cato, my boyfriend. Who I love. Who loves me back.

Cato gives me a funny look. "Are you alright?"

I nod, shakily. "I'm fine. Just... hungry."

He grins and raises his eyebrows.

I glare at him. "For food."

"Dang."

I roll my eyes, and we head to the dining room.

"There you are." Enobaria looks faintly annoyed. "You were supposed to report to us as soon as your sessions were over."

"Sorry," I say. "I was tired."

I examine the seating arrangement. Lukas and Enobaria are sitting next to each other at one end of the table. At the other end, Elpheba cowers in her chair. She's such a wimp. Enobaria's scary, but still.

Cato walks over and plops into the seat next to Elpheba and throws his arm around her shoulder. "Hey, Elpheba, how's it going?"

I stifle a laugh as I take a seat on the other side of Lukas. "Knock it off, Cato."

He sighs. "Alright." Grinning, he strides over to Enobaria. He pulls out a chair and sits down next to her. "Hey, Enobaria, how's it-"

Lukas slaps his hand away as he tries to sling his arm around her. "Get your bloody hands off her," he growls.

Cato raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry, bro."

This is so similar to just a few days ago, when Derric was teasing Cato about me, that I can't help but laugh. Lukas is just as possessive of Enobaria as Cato is of me. But Enobaria and Lukas aren't... or are they? But why would they keep it a secret? They aren't tributes anymore. They're victors, famous ones. They have no reason to hide anything.

Cato jauntily walks over to me. He sits down and he doesn't even have a chance to open his mouth before I glare at him. "Don't even think about it."

"I feel so unwanted."

"That's because you are," I say, digging into a plate of spahgetti.

I'm trying to keep up a cool demeanor, but I feel as though I'm failing. Inside, I'm shaken to the core.

I was trying to put Ryk's confession out of my mind. Trying to convince myself that it didn't matter, that I thought of him only as a friend. But now that he's said that, I'm starting to wonder if I ever did think if him as more than a friend somewhere in my subconcious. Especially now, what with my hallucination of him.

It's wrong. I love Cato. Anything I feel for Ryk is surely a crush, a minor attraction. Or the kind of feeling you'd have for a brother.

Then again, I used to think of Cato as a brother.

It shouldn't matter to me. I'll be dead in a matter of weeks. I'll never see Ryk again.

But it does. I don't want to die unsure of who I care about.

"Clove. They're going to broadcast the training scores. You want to watch or not?" Lukas is standing in the doorway, motioning to the TV room, where the others presumably are. The table has been cleared, and I sit alone.

My face heats up. "Sure."

I head into the TV room. Cato, Enobaria, and Elpheba are already seated. Someone must have repaired the shattered screen, because it looks good as new.

I curl up next to Cato just as Glimmer's score is being announced. A ten. Marvel gets a ten as well. This is normal. The range of the scores is usually around four to ten. Occasionally someone will get a very low score, like a two, or an extremely high one, like an eleven, but that's rare.

I think Marvel and Glimmer will be great allies.

When Cato's face flashes, along with the number ten, he lets out a war whoop and fist bumps Lukas.

It's sort of funny, because just a little while ago, Lukas was ready to kill Cato. Guys just don't hold grudges like girls do, I guess. That's part of why I prefer hanging with Alex and Derric and Ryk and Cato over the girls at my school. They don't dwell on the little things too much.

I also get a ten, as well as a kiss from Cato and a thumbs-up from Enobaria.

We continue watching. The D3 kids get decent scores, and Nikki and Jonathon get a nine and a ten. After them, the scores get progressively lower. Why? Because at the start of D5, the wine is served.

We sit, bored, through the rest of the districts. When Katniss's turn comes, I'm expecting her to get perhaps an eight, if she's lucky. She seemed agile and athletic, but not too good at any type of weaponry.

Suddenly, Cato's letting out a roar of frustration, and Lukas is cursing, and Enobaria's giving a throaty growl.

My eyes narrow as I register the number on the TV. It seems that the girl on fire has outshone us once again. Katniss has scored an eleven.

**Wow, who would've seen that coming? Actually, all of you probably would've, because you've read the books, but hey, cut me some slack.**

**This chapter was kind of boring, and I guess it doesn't really have much substance, but (hopefully) the next one will be better. It's going to have the interview! And we (meaning you) get to see Clove's interview dress! (In the movie, it's a lame dress. It looks like something you'd wear over a swimsuit at the beach. Lameos.)**

**Review!**

**P.S. I just pasted this onto Word and realized that it is, indeed, the same length as most of my other chapters. Huh. Guess I'm bad at guessing that.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I have finally finished! I feel accomplished.**

**See, yesterday, I sort of, um, accidently deleted most of the chapter, and I had to rewrite it all while pretending to do homework. Sorry if it **_**ain't**_** no good.**

**And also: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG Did you guys see the HG movie? 'Cause it was awesome! And the Careers were awesome! And Clove slept with her knife xD (Literally, not like…). And Glimmer and Cato kept flirting and they were curled up together under the Tracker Jacker tree and it was adorable! And then Foxface was awesome! And so were Haymitch and Effie! And Seneca Crane!**

"**An eleven?"**

"**She deserved it."**

"**She shot an arrow at your head."**

"**Actually, it was, um, at an apple."**

"**That was near your head!"**

**Sorry. Crazy fangirl moment. Read on.**

I lay awake. Cato is next to me, arm slung over my waist. After going into a violent rage and breaking lots of things, he apologized, cleaned it all up, and fell asleep in my bed. I'm starting to actually worry about him.

Even with Cato here beside me, though, all I can think about is Ryk.

The way his dark hair falls in his eyes, the smile he'll give me when we pass each other in the halls at school, the tone he'll get in his voice when he helps me with schoolwork. I can still feel the tingle of his lips on mine, hear the echo of his "I love you" bouncing around in my head.

What's it going to be like, if I'm the one who goes home? Because if I were to start dating Ryk, it would be like punching Cato's memory in the face. I just... ugh. I don't know.

I remember when Ryk first found out that we were dating. It was probably two days after Cato kissed me that first time.

_"So who do you want to win?" _

_Ryk and I are stretched out on the grass, watching a football game. Cato's team versus Derric's. Cato's team is currently leading. Of course. He's Cato._

_Ryk chose not to play. Apparently, he's "more of a soccer guy."_

_"Cato," I reply, watching as he barrels down the field with the ball._

_Ryk laughs. "Of course."_

_We continue talking, lost in conversation. Some girl, Jelina, comes up and trys to flirt with him, but Ryk waves her off. Which is sort of flattering._

_Ryk begins telling me about some incident in class, where Derric bet Alex ten bucks that he couldn't rap, and so then Alex stood on the table and started rapping. Then the teacher walked in and started yelling at him. Alex was so startled that he fell backwards off the table and sprained his ankle. "That's why he's running like that," he says, motioning to Alex, who, I now notice, is having trouble running. He keeps stumbling, and he looks so pathetic that I can't help but let out a small giggle. In doing so, a strand of hair falls into my vision. Ryk's gentle fingers reach to tuck it behind my ears when his hand is slapped away._

_Cato. _

_"What are you doing, Kali?" I can feel the menace in his voice._

_"Talking to Clove," Ryk replies, standing up._

_"Yeah? Well maybe next time you can do it from a little farther away, huh?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Since when is it any of your buisness?" Ryk asks, his voice dangerously quiet._

_I scoot back and stand up, feeling like I'm about to be stepped on._

_"Gee, I don't know. Maybe since we started dating?" With that, Cato grabs my face and crushes my lips into his. He pulls back and gives Ryk a triumphant grin. _

_Ryk swallows. He says nothing, but nods at Cato. A nod of respect._

It never really registered, in my mind. I thought it had just been a crush, something he'd moved on from.

I was wrong.

Two years. Two whole years of watching Cato and I.

I feel bad for him.

The steadyness of Cato's breathing slowly lulls me to sleep. And I dream.

It's one of those dreams where you know you're dreaming, and you can just wake up if you want to. The problem is, I can't decide if the dream I'm having is a good one or a nightmare.

I dream of Ryk.

In my dream, I've won the Games. Cato is dead. But Ryk, well, he's very much alive.

I see him and I sitting on the edge of one of D2's many lakes.

I see a wedding.

I see myself, stomach swollen.

I see our child, a little boy with dark hair and dark eyes.

I see grandchildren.

And then I see one phrase, over and over.

"All you have to do is kill Cato."

That's when I decide that this fantasy is most definately a nightmare. I force my eyes open.

"Clove?" In the darkness, I can barely make out Cato's face. I don't want to talk to him right now. Not after that dream. So I lean over and kiss him. He eagerly kisses me back, shifting so he's on top of me. I moan in pleasure as he bites at my neck. I tear his shirt off, and he groans as my lips make contact with his bare skin. He claws hastily at the zipper on my nightgown, yanking it down. The straps tumble off my shoulders, and his kisses move steadily lower. I pull away quickly.

"No."

"Why not?" I can feel his frustration.

"Just... no."

"We've got one more night Clove! After this, just one more night!"

"Which is exactly the reason that I don't want to this! I don't want to love you and then lose you!"

"Whatever," Cato says, disgusted. He picks up his shirt and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

I can feel the ghost of his lips on mine. Like how people who've had their appendages amputated and still feel phantom pains where their arms or legs used to be.

The feeling - that part of me is gone - is awful.

I wake up the next morning feeling groggy and just plain awful. It takes mounds and mounds of makeup to cover the bags under my eyes.

Exactly one year ago today, Ali wore a gauzy white dress with a denim jacket, tan sandles, and a headband.

As I pull on the outfit, I can't help but laugh. I look so young. I could be the girl that Cato met at the Training Center, so many years ago.

Breakfast is sort of awkward. Cato still sits next to me, but he doesn't talk to me. Lukas and Enobaria keep exchanging not-so-subtle glances that say 'what's up with them?' And Elpheba, who has given up on making conversation with us, eats in silence.

After breakfast, we're supposed to practice our approach for the interview with Enobaria and Lukas. For four hours. Fun.

Lukas and Enobaria begin arguing over whether we should go public with our relationship or not. And that's when I just blow up.

"First off, it's our relationship! You guys shouldn't be the ones deciding this, we should! And we already figured this out like, ten years ago, on the train! So why are you even still arguing about it?"

Lukas narrows his eyes. "Because we're your mentors. Do you want to win or not?"

I cross my arms. "Not, actually." I realize that wearing a dress that makes me look five was perhaps not the best idea today.

"Well then why don't Enobaria and I just go get a drink, because, obviously Clove's the expert here! She may not look like the sharpest tool in the shed, but..." He walks out, slamming the door.

Enobaria sighs. "I'll go talk to him," she says, following him out.

Only Cato and I are left.

"I'm sorry."

I look up to see Cato walking over and taking a seat next to me. "I know I'm not completely... well. And I know I can be difficult sometimes. Clove, it's just the smallest things. A rejection. A training score. I'll go into this rage and... I'll just lose control. Everything feels like a dream."

He takes a deep breath. "I know I'm not perfect. But..." Suddenly he's down on one knee, pulling something from his pocket, and I'm freaking out.

"Oh my god, Cato, you are not proposing to me, we're going to the Games, you-"

He cuts me off. "I'm not proposing to you." He opens a tiny little box to reveal a sparkling ring. "This is a promise ring. And Clove, if you accept it, I promise that I will love you forever, and I'll never let you down. I'll find a way for both of us to get out of the Games alive. And when the time is right, I'll propose. I swear."

I'm shocked. Beyond shocked. I can't think of anything to say, because oh my god he just proposed not really but sort of and oh my god.

"I know that was really cheesy. Sorry. Please say something."

I open my mouth and close it again. What seems to be hours later, I draw courage to speak.

"Yes."

Cato laughs and slides the ring on my finger.

Standing up, he smiles and takes a deep breath.

He cups my cheek in his hand and kisses me, and it's at that moment that I swear to myself that Cato will never, ever find out about Ryk, and that I'll find a way to destroy any feelings about him inside of me. Cato doesn't deserve any less.

Our 'preparations' are torturous. After being drilled for hours upon hours by Enobaria and Lukas, we're sent to Elpheba. She teaches us about 'important' things, like walking in heels, and never putting our elbows on the table.

Just when I think that I'm getting a break from the insanity, Cato and I are seperated and put in the hands of our prep teams. Oh joy.

My team wastes no time getting to work. I'm shoved into a bath full of a sweet-smelling liquid while my nail polish is scrubbed off. Then my nails are repainted the exact same way, and my hair is curled at the edges. My face is redesigned with the same smokey makeup from the parade. I can tell that the prep team notices my ring right away, but they don't say anything about it. I bet they've put two and two together about me and Cato by now. Hopefully, Lukas has instructed them not to tell anyone.

Before I know it, I'm standing in front of a mirror and Starflower is telling me to close my eyes and dropping a heavy garmet over my head.

"Open your eyes."

Breathtaking. That's the only word that can describe me right now. Normally, I'm pretty enough, but Starflower has transformed me into a girl who is simply stunning.

My dress is a black spahgetti strap thing with a long poofy skirt reaching the floor. Before its altercations, it would be a decent dress. Simple and elegant. But now... it is unforgettable. It hangs in tatters, and it gives the impression that I've just been running though a moonlit forest in the dead of night.

"It's beautiful," I say.

Starflower nods at the ring on my finger. "Would you like to wear that on a chain around your neck?" She asks carefully. I know what she's really asking. She's asking if Cato and I are going public with our relationship tonight.

"Yes, please," I tell her. She leaves the room and comes back mere minutes later with a thin silvery necklace. A ring on a necklace would simply seem like a district token. A ring on a finger would draw all sorts of questions that I would be unable to answer, especially since I wasn't wearing the ring in the Tribute Parade.

I take my seat between Cato and Marvel, glad that I'm one of the first to be interviewed. I just want to get this over with.

Glimmer and Marvel's interviews seem to fly by incredibly fast.

"And now, Clove Calloway!"

I walk across the stage, giving smiles to the cheering Capitol freaks. That's when I realize that me, being cruel, well, it ain't gonna work. I try to come up with another angle, but my mind goes blank. I just decide to wing it.

"Well, Clove, you made a fantastic debut in the parade with your beautiful costume. What were your thoughts on it?"

Think think think. Say something. Something funny. They like funny stuff. Right?

"It was awesome. I mean, I felt sort of like a stripper, but hey, win some, lose some, right?"

The audience gives a laugh. That's good right? Laughing is good. Funny is good. Caesar is saying something. Listen, Clove. Listening is good.

"So, as you trained, we were able to see you throwing knives, and I have to say, you were spectacular. Do you have any other skills we might not know about?"

"Trapping. And poisons. Poisons are so... elegant, don't you agree? So classy."

"Indeed." Caesar says, actually sounding sincere. I have to try not to laugh at his seriousness. "Now, you're a striking young woman, Clove. Is there some special boy waiting for you back home?"

Oh dang. What do I say?

"Yes."

"What's his name?"

What's his name? What's his name?

"Alex," I blurt without thinking. I will never hear the end of this if I make it back. Never. Humanity will be destroyed by a zombie apocalypse, and Derric's last words will be "Clove and Alex are in loooooooove."

"I'm sure you'll win for him."

"I know I will," I say. I blow a kiss at the nearest camera. "I love you, Alex!" The audiance eats it up.

The buzzer goes off, signaling that my time is up.

"Well, let's hear a great big round of applause for Clove Calloway!" I give a small curtsey as the audience claps, then walk offstage.

Cato's next. I try to pay attention, but my mind keeps wandering.

When he comes back, he starts laughing. "Alex? Is that the only name you could think of? Alex?"

"Shut up," I say.

"I love you, Alex," he mimics.

"Shut up!" My face feels warm.

Marvel is giving us a funny look, so we both really do shut up. That is, until Cato starts leaning over and whispering 'I love you, Alex' in about fifty different voices.

"I love you, Alex," he whispers in a Capitol accent.

"I love you, Alex," he whispers, sounding like a five-year old.

"Omigod, I like, so TOTES love you, Alex," he whispers, sounding like a valley girl.

"I love you, Alex," he whispers seductively.

He finally stops around District 9, to my relief.

Nothing remarkable really happens until Katniss's interview, in which she twirls around in a flaming dress while the audience oohs and ahhs.

Then Peeta.

"Winning... won't help my case." They've just been talking about some girl Peeta likes who doesn't like him back.

"And why's that?"

"Because she came here with me."

Came here with him? Wait, what - oh my god.

Cato begins to spout out four letter words quite loudly, including three I've never heard before that I tuck away for future use. Marvel shows a little more restraint, at least keeping his voice down.

Great. Our star-crossed lover angle has competion.

Well, Katpee, you just wait. Clato is going to take you down.

**That was kinda short. Oh well.**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Sorry 'bout not updating… trying to make long quality chapters, though I'm not sure this could be considered quality :/ It's sort of a bad chapter, and nothing really happens. But I just had a bad day today, and you guys' reviews usually cheer me up **

** REVIEWS: I usually try to respond to all my reviews but OMFG I HAVE FIFTY REVIEWS YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST PEOPLE EVER ASDFGHJKL and there are sort of just too many. THANKS SO MUCH GUYS YOU ROCK.**

**Just know that if I don't respond, I still appreciate it, I'm just appreciating it in silence ;)**

After the interviews, Enobaria has nothing but praise for us. Lukas, on the other hand, is thoroughly annoyed. "All that work for nothing! Neither of you even made an attempt at going with your chosen approach! Cato, did you listen to a single thing I said?"

"Not really, no."

Lukas fumes. "Clove?"

"Sorry, I'm afraid I'm going to have to go with Cato on this one," I say. I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.

"You two are disgusting," Lukas says.

I just laugh. This of course, makes Lukas even angrier. He shakes his head and walks away muttering about hormonal teenagers.

Elpheba wants us all to eat dinner at the table, but we ignore her and carry our plates to the TV. Cato and I sit on the floor, while Lukas, Enobaria, and Eplheba sit on the couch. Starflower and Dragon pull up chairs from the table.

When we get to my interview and the whole Alex debacle, Cato's actually giggling. Giggling.

Alex, Derric, and Ryk probably watched the interviews together. They might've gone to Cato's house, but I doubt it. Derric would've snuck some alcohol from the fridge, and so everyone was probably a little... off by the time my interview came around. Not drunk yet, just a little dizzy.

I've never been a fan of alcohol. It tastes bad, and I'm not sure about other kinds, but Derric's kind gives you a wicked hangover. Cato loves it though, and so maybe I'm just weird.

I bet that Derric isn't giving Alex a break. He's probably still taunting him now. I bet Ryk has his smirk of a smile on, not actually saying anything, but silently laughing.

I feel a pang of loneliness. I've really only thought about Ryk since we boarded the train, but I now realize how much I miss Alex. Derric. Cletan. Mrs. Lawrence. My father. Heck, even Angel.

Remember the enemy. What did Angel mean? For a second I think of Katniss, but then I realize that Angel hadn't even seen the reapings yet. That couldn't be whom she meant.

After the interviews, we're served a huge dinner. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realize that this could be my last dinner ever, and suddenly the meal doesn't seem so appetizing.

Later, after showering and changing into a nightgown, I lay in Cato's arms. Both of us are trying to fall asleep, but it's clear that's not going to happen.

"I sort of lied to you," Cato says.

I roll over so that I'm facing him. "About what?"

"When I first met you, I acted like I didn't know anything about you. That wasn't really the case."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He takes a deep breath. "My dad was friends with your dad when they were kids. He pointed you out to me one day before training. It was around a month before I met you. I remember his exact words. 'See that girl over there, the one with the dark hair? I was friends with her father. Her name's Clove. She's good with knives. Clever, too. Probably going to volunteer someday.' Then he patted me on the shoulder. 'She's your type of girl, Cato. Don't let her get away.'"

I smile. "Your father rocks."

"After that, I paid a lot more attention to you. You really were good with knives. You didn't have a lot of friends, or a boyfriend. And you were beautiful."

"I was on a run when I saw you sneak into the Training Center. I thought, hey, maybe this is my chance."

"And it was," I say softly.

Conversation drifts to school, then to Derric's awful ex, then to Enobaria and Lukas, who we both think are sleeping together.

We talk all through the night and into the early morning hours. We say things we've never had the guts to say before, because when else will we get a chance to? I come so close to telling him about Ryk. So close. But I don't. Because I don't want to break his heart.

Around 0400, I fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion. It seems like only minutes later that a teary Elpheba is waking us up.

"Time for the Games," she says, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

She's sad for us, I realize with a start. She feels bad.

We're rushed to a large hovercraft. Humongous, silver, and sleek, it will carry us to the launch rooms under the Arena. That's where the tributes wait for the Games to start, since the Capitol citizens can't be bothered to wake before ten, not even for the Games.

They say the food is excellent.

Cato and I stand awkwardly as we wait for the Peacekeepers to come and escort us to the hovercraft.

"I guess this is goodbye," I say softly. Because who knows what will happen as we rise into the arena? One of us, heck, both of us, could die within the first minute.

He reaches over to hold my hand. "I love you, Clove. More than anything."

"I love you, too."

A squad of peacekeepers appears at the end of the hall. Cato's grip on my hand tightens.

The squad surrounds us and marches us through several hallways to a locked door. One swipes a passcard and the door slides open. I see other tributes being escorted onto the hovercraft. Cato still won't let go of my hand. Luckily, we're obscured by our escorts.

When we approach the other tributes, Cato gives my hand a final squeeze before letting go.

All of us are taken into a long room lined with 24 seats. I take a seat between Cato and Glimmer. Glimmer and Jonathon keep smiling at each other. I nudge Cato, then nod at Glimmer and Jonathon. He grins.

Not that the smile lasts. Those two will probably be dead within the next month.

The windows black out, and I know we're approaching the arena. We climb down a ladder in a translucent tube, which leads us to the catacombs under the arena. Peacekeepers escort us through different passageways to our launch rooms. The last image I have of Cato is of him, Peacekeeper on either side, being marched away, an unhappy look on his face.

I'm taken to a small room, in which I find Starflower waiting for me. After the Peacekeepers leave, she helps me dress in the outfit I'll be wearing in the arena. It's composed of a green shirt, tawny pants, black boots, and a thigh-length black jacket. Starflower ties a sturdy brown belt around my waist. "How do you want your hair?"

Huh. I've never thought about it before, but in the arena, all the girls always have their hair pulled back.

"Um... surprise me."

Almost impossibly fast, Starflower weaves strands of my hair into braids, then pulls all of it back into a bun.

"I like it," I say, and she smiles.

She notices the ring on my finger. "Are you wearing that in the arena?"

I nod.

"You're supposed to submit your tokens to a committee. They evaluate them to make sure they can't be used as weapons."

"Well, what will they do about it? A death threat doesn't exactly have much of an effect right now."

"You'll be fine. The girl from One, Glimmer, had a ring, too. When you twisted it, a poison spike popped out of it. So they confiscated it. You don't have any poison spikes, right?"

"Not that I know of," I say dryly.

"Good." Starflower lets out a small sigh. "I'm sorry you two can't... can't be together."

Impulsively, I hug her. "So am I."

A computerized female voice announces that it's time for me to get in the tube that will take me into the arena.

"Good luck," Starflower says.

"Thanks for everything," I say. I step into the tube and the glass door slams shut. I rise slowly into the arena.

My eyes haven't adjusted yet, but I can smell pine trees. Good. One year, there were no trees, and a bunch of the tributes died from the cold, all huddled up in little balls. They had no wood to make fires.

Those silent, bloodless deaths were considered quite anti-climatic in the Capitol. So since then, there's been trees. But still, you can't help but worry.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!"

I have sixty seconds until the gong sounds, signaling that we're allowed to step off our plates. Sixty seconds to take in the golden cornucopia, the pine forest, the glassy lake. Sixty seconds until the killing starts.

I look around. About five tributes down is Cato. He points at his chest, makes a heart with his hands, then points at me. I give him a sad smile.

I scan my eyes over the supplies piled in the Cornucopia. Out at the edges, near my feet, are less valuable things, like a coil of rope or an empty canteen. Near the middle are the more important things, likes swords and spears and knives.

All of the goodies are to entice the tributes into a fight. Usually around half of the tributes are killed in this initial battle, called the bloodbath.

The gong sounds, and I'm off my plate in a flash. I reach the Cornucopia before most of the other tributes. I grab three knives, then turn towards my competitors. I see the District 9 boy fighting with Katniss over a backpack, Glimmer and Jonathon throwing these spiky things like dodgeballs, Cato leaning in for the final blow - Katniss! The District 9 boy is in the way, so I can't get her. I throw a knife, and it hits him right in the back. I see Katniss's scared expression and throw another, but she blocks it with the backpack. She's taken off into the woods before I can throw another.

I see the girl from seven reaching for a sword. I take aim and she falls to the ground. Retrieving the knife from her chest, I notice the boy from seven sneaking up behind Cato. My knife strikes him in the neck, and he's dead before he hits the ground.

I notice Glimmer kneeling over something on the ground. Someone. Jonathon.

She's talking to him. Probably trying to comfort him, which is pointless, because now I can see that he's lying in a steadily growing pool of blood.

The boy from six tries to grab a bag of apples from the Cornucopia, but I throw my last knife and it hits him in the arm. Cato's sword does the rest.

When the bloodbath is finally over, we all stand back and watch as hovercrafts pick up the bodies of the eleven dead tributes. The cannons fire.

Cato immediately takes charge.

"Alright, Nikki, Glimmer, You sort out the supplies, Marvel, you stand guard. Clove and I will scout ahead and check out the terrain."

Nikki glares at him. "I think I can be of more use than housework," she says, "and who put you in charge, anyway?"

Cato pulls out his sword. "I did, you got a problem with that?" Nikki wisely shakes her head no. "That's what I thought." Cato says menacingly.

As soon as we're out of sight of the others, we stop. Like we were really going to "scout out the terrain."

I take Cato's face in my hands and kiss him. It's sweet, gentle. No matter how sexy it might be to kiss him just a little harder, to let his hands go where they want, I don't want to do that. Vulgarity will not get us anywhere.

I pull away, the taste of Cato's lips still lingering on mine.

"I love you," I whisper. This is mostly for the audience's benefit. Just to let them know.

Because Cato and I, we're more in love than Katniss and Peeta could ever be.

And the world needs to know that.

**Told ya it wasn't that great. Oh well.**

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